


Castle on a Cloud

by reve_silencieux



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reve_silencieux/pseuds/reve_silencieux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sara gave up on her childhood dreams a long time ago. They just weren't meant to be. Or so she thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castle on a Cloud

When Sara is young, she and her sister play dress up and house, and have tea parties with their dolls. All the normal things little girls do at that age. Sure, she knows she’ll grow up and find a job, but the house, the family? She fully expects that. Her mom had married her dad a couple years after college. Emily came shortly after, unexpected as she may have been, and a few years later, Sara.

This is normal—at least in Sara’s young mind.

Until Emily runs away and Sara has to grow up. The rose-colored glasses disappear.

So does that little girl.

Then her parents die, and Sara is left to fend for herself. She finds a job—maybe not what she dreamt about when she was eight—but it is a good job and she likes it. Even better, she excels at it.

Sara is twenty-eight by the time she’s made a name for herself at Sterling Bosch. She thrives in her new life, working hard, and doesn’t look back at her childhood dreams. She’s concentrating on her career—that’s the most important thing to her at the moment. The rest can wait.

It is a lonely life, only interrupted by the occasional date, or sometimes a short fling. She doesn’t have time for a social life—she spends her time in seedy places, or in less-than-desirable activities, like digging through trash. There’s always something more that needs to be done, some other place to go, someone else to chase after.

When Bryan asks her out, it’s hard to say ‘no.’ He’s charming, sweet, and not bad to look at. In the end, she realizes they are different people, and she had accepted his proposal because that’s what she is supposed to do: get married, have a family. Even though, if she were to be honest with herself, the idea of it had terrified her.

When she turns thirty, she tries not to think about the fact that she thought she’d be married and having kids by now. Pushes away the disappointment she knows her mom would be feeling if she were alive.

Especially once she starts dating Neal Caffrey, charming con man and general pain in the ass. He’s everything she _never_ planned.

She also can’t help but fall for him. But she doesn’t live in a fantasy. There are no little girl dreams of a fairytale wedding with the big white dress and the house with the 2.5 kids. Even if Neal does look like Prince Charming. Sara’s not even sure she wants that life anymore. She’s happy—content with the way things are.

But Neal is fun. Nicer than she had imagined. He’s a real person, full of sadness and heartbreak hidden behind layers of smiles and half-truths. She feels more for him than she ever did for Bryan, even though she knows it can’t last. It’s not just him, it’s her.

And when she breaks it off with him, she convinces herself that it’s the right thing to do. They are two different people.

Same line, different heartbreak.

It wasn’t even that long ago when her ‘death’ had been a wakeup call, but she can’t change who she is and that’s a driven, determined woman who loves her job too much to throw it away. Some women can balance work and family, but if it’s in the cards for Sara, it’s not then.

Nor is it a year later, despite the ring on her finger and the fact that she’s standing on top of the Empire State Building in the arms of Neal Caffrey, who has just opened his heart to her in the most beautiful proposal imaginable. The tears are real—for both of them.

She doesn’t know what to think anymore.

But she goes to London and all hell breaks loose back in New York, and she tries to forget the warmth she felt in his arms. This is the life that she chose.

Six months later she stares at the phone in her hand in shock and wonders where it all went wrong. When she let her a job control her life. When she walked away from a chance at happiness.

She rests her hand on her rounded stomach, feels a kick from within, and doesn’t stop the tears that stream down her face, knowing—without a doubt, now—that her dreams are gone.

Maybe she’s just meant to be alone.

*~*~*~*

She knows it’s stupid. Pointless. But she can’t help but dial the number and listen to his voice.

_“You’ve reached Neal. Big brother's watching, so leave a message at your own risk.”_

Sara grips the phone tightly, and knows she’s foolish for holding onto this when soon she’ll have something more tangible than a short voicemail.

The phone beeps and instead of hanging up, she talks. In the back of her mind, she recognizes the futility of her actions, but everything comes pouring out.

“I hate you, you know that, Caffrey? For making me fall for your charms—for loving you when I shouldn’t have. I had a life—a _good_ life! And it might have been lonely, but I was okay with that.” She swipes at the tears building in her eyes. “And now?” Her voice cracks and she almost breaks down right then and there. “I want the dream. The house, and the kids, and… and you.”

She closes her eyes and remembers the speech she’d planned months ago. “I was going to tell you. I know we hadn’t talked much since…” She pauses. It’s too painful to think of that day at the top of the world, that perfect moment, when she could have had it all. “I’m not that cruel. I just… I just didn’t want you to do something stupid. And maybe I was scared. Maybe I wasn’t ready to accept it. I’d given up on that life.”

Sara takes a deep breath. “So I’m telling you now: I’m pregnant.” She pauses again. It’s still hard to imagine telling him like this. “It’s a—the baby’s a girl. I haven’t picked a name yet. I… I thought we’d pick together—that we would fight over Caffrey and Ellis and agonize over nicknames and now… now I—” She holds a hand over her mouth and tries not to cry again. “I don’t know what to do, Neal. I can’t do this by myself. I’m strong, but this… this is too much. I need you. I need to hear your calming voice convincing me that everything will be all right.

“But it’s not. How can it be? You’re gone, and I…” She angrily wipes the tears away. “I love you, Caffrey. There, I said it.” It feels like a weight has lifted off her chest and she wishes she’d said it sooner. “But you’re not here. I love you and you left me again. Why? Why do I keep letting you break my heart?”

The beep startles her and reality sinks in, and she drops the phone on the bed. Falling back, she curls up in a ball, and lets the tears flow freely.

“I’m sorry, so sorry…”

*~*~*~*

Sara is always prepared. That’s just how she is. It’s how she’s gotten this far in her job, in her life. She applies the same determination to her impending motherhood, researching and shopping, and making sure she’s as prepared as she can be.

It doesn’t make her any less scared. Or truly ready for what’s ahead. She has lists upon lists, and she still keeps finding one more thing that she needs.

The baby book is not something she’d given much thought to. Sara is not the type to scrapbook or do crafts, and as much as she loves art, she leaves it to those like Neal who are good at it. She only bought it because a coworker mentioned it, and she figures it’s one of those things you’re _supposed_ to do, because it’s expected. She had one, and so did Emily.

Flipping through the pages, she stops at the family tree and realizes she truly has no family left. She suddenly feels sad that her daughter will have no grandparents, no aunts or uncles, no cousins to play with—no one except her. And then it hits her that she doesn’t even have a picture of Neal. No snapshots, no cheesy engagement photo from the top of the Empire State Building, not even a selfie. She thinks back, scrolling through her memory and can’t even come up with a time she might have taken a picture of him with her cell phone. Their relationship was not normal—to say the least—and their time together had been sporadic and casual.

They lived too much in the moment to think that it could last.

Sara wonders if she should ask Peter if he has any pictures. When he’d called, she’d been too much in shock to think clearly. She didn’t even tell him about the baby. It was a split-second decision and a part of her feels guilty, but she’s a little selfish, wanting to keep this part of Neal to herself.

She also doesn’t want the pity.

She knows that without Neal, that part of her life is over. Peter and Elizabeth, Mozzie and June —they’re Neal’s friends. It’s not as if she’s maintained contact with any of them since she left. What reason is there now? She’d thrown out an excuse as to why she couldn’t go to his funeral—and it pained her not to—but she can’t fly now. Maybe after the baby is born, she’ll tell them, but right now it’s all she can do to not break down every time she thinks of Neal.

Which is all the time.

She’d been scared before, but now she is terrified of raising this child by herself. There had been a moment, after she found out she was pregnant, when she’d considered moving back to New York. There would have been another job, she knew, but now, it’s what keeps her grounded. She needs it to support and take care of her daughter. London will become her home. She and the baby will be a family.

It just won’t include Neal.

*~*~*~*

The bouquet of flowers is delivered to her office. A beautiful arrangement of carnations in every color, and yet she nearly cries. She fingers one, remembering the last time she received them. Peter had remarked that they brightened up the place, but she’d wanted more. She hasn’t spoken to him since that call, but he’d emailed some photos when she asked. He is a sweet, caring man, but she knows he probably wouldn’t think to send flowers. Maybe Elizabeth. But why? They don’t know about the baby, and as far as they know, she’s just the ex. The ex that couldn’t even make it to the funeral.

Later in the day, a package arrives and inside is a carefully wrapped box. A few co-workers have already given her a few gifts, and this one is no different, with its soft pastel wrapping paper and delicate ribbon tied into a perfect bow. She is curious though, and slides a finger beneath the seam of the paper. Opening the box, she pushes aside the pink tissue paper and gasps.

A small, baby sized fedora, white with black polka dots and a bright purple ribbon trim, and matching purple shoes sit nestled in the box.

She feels the familiar tears trickle down her face and doesn’t bother to wipe them away. For the past two weeks, all she’s done is cry. Picking up the hat, she traces a finger along the brim and closes her eyes. Images of Neal twirling his hat and grinning overwhelm her. She wonders how long it’s going to hurt.

If the pain will ever go away.

A kick in her stomach reminds her that she’s not alone, and she’ll have the best reminder of Neal she could ever want. More than a hat or a photo or a five-second voicemail. Her little girl will take after both of them, she knows, with her stubbornness and determination, but with a heart of gold.

Sara smiles, thinking of a little girl with her attitude and Neal’s charm. She might not have planned on having a child, but she can’t imagine not having this baby. Nothing else matters anymore. Nothing is as important as making sure she grows up happy and loved. And she will be loved, _so much_. Of that there is no question.

Neal will watch over them, and he will live on in her forever.

*~*~*~*

Two days later Sara’s in the hospital, but it’s a false alarm. Nonetheless, her doctor tells her in no uncertain terms that she has to stop working. She’s already been handing off her work to co-workers so she only takes a day to finish everything. It is hard to leave, but even she won’t put her job before her baby’s health.

The contractions come and go, but she endures until she’s wrapped up things at the office. By the time she arrives home, she’s looking forward to collapsing on the couch. She’d tried not to complain too much the past few months (not that she really had anyone to complain to), but pregnancy is wearing her down. Sara had planned to work up until the last minute, but she’s secretly glad to have stopped. With only two weeks to go, she needs the rest. Her strength already feels sapped from the stress of everything and the emotional rollercoaster she’s been riding.

She glances at the flowers on her kitchen table and smiles, ever so softly. Peter was right. The colors lift her spirits, just a little.

Walking towards them, Sara freezes when she sees the baby book open on the table. She’d put it away, the pain of its emptiness more upsetting than the anticipation of filling it out. But there it is, and as she nears it, she can see handwriting, neat and careful, and fear grips her heart.

The family tree has been filled out.

She falls into the closest chair and stares at the names numbly. There aren’t many, but there in black and white is

_Father ~ Neal George Caffrey_  


A sob escapes her, and she blinks her eyes furiously, telling herself she’s seeing things, but it’s all still there.

It is then that she looks back up at the carnations, and sees the hat and shoes she’d left out.

_No, no, no_. She shakes her head violently, but it all clicks together. Her eyes rest on the flowers and she spots an envelope tucked amidst the greenery. Standing on shaky legs, she leans over and plucks it out. There is a card inside, with a hand-drawn image. At first glance it’s St. George and the Dragon, but upon closer inspection it appears to be her on the horse.

There is no doubt now, but she can’t feel anything but shock. There will be anger, she knows, but right now she can’t bother to summon the energy needed for that. Her hands tremble as she opens it and sees the same neat handwriting. It’s a list of names. Girls’ names.

At the bottom are two words.

_I’m sorry._

Closing her eyes, she slumps back into her seat and takes long slow breaths, trying to calm herself. Her heart is beating wildly and her mind is going a million miles an hour. _How? Why?_ But she has no answers, only more questions. The relief she feels is tinged with sadness and a slow burning anger. Disbelief, yet acceptance, because only Neal could cheat death.

She jumps at the touch of a hand on her shoulder.

How much had she wanted to feel his touch once more? She nearly laughs, but instead she chokes back a sob. Hands pull her up and she melts into the familiar embrace. Crying, she lays her head against his chest and hopes this isn’t a dream.

“Shh… I’m here. I’m sorry, so sorry.” And it’s his voice, the one she longed to hear, rumbling beneath her cheek.

At that sound, she loses it and curls her hand into a fist and pounds at his chest. “Why? _Why?_ You bastard. _Why?_ ”

He holds onto her tighter, and she wants to fight him, but she’s too tired, too worn out to do anything more than collapse into his arms. There is only silence as her tears fall and she feels the soft touch of his lips on her forehead.

If this is a dream, then she does not want to wake up.

*~*~*~*

Sara sips at her tea, cradling the warmth of the mug between her hands tightly, and watches him move around her kitchen. She can’t take her eyes off of him, as if he will disappear if she looks away. He’s explained what happened, has apologized over and over, but it still hasn’t sunk in. She understands why he did it. It doesn’t make it any easier though, to accept that he willingly put them through this.

She’d asked if he still would have done it if he’d known she was pregnant. His silence and the pained look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. Her anger still simmers, but the relief is too overwhelming. He is here now. She is not alone. What happens next, though, she has no idea. She is too afraid to ask. This moment, she doesn’t want it to end.

Over the past few months, in the back of her mind, she’d prepared herself to be a single mother. At least until he was released. There had been doubt, especially after the months of silence, but she’d known Neal. He would be there, nothing would keep him from his own child.

Doing it without him at all—she hadn’t been prepared for that.

Seeing him now, it seems like it could be so easy. That they could just pick back up where they’d left off, as if they’d never been interrupted and the proposal had been real. A house, the kids… her childhood dream. But that’s not possible, and she knows it won’t be easy.

Because Neal Caffrey is dead.

He looks up and catches her eye. His smile is soft, and the look in his eyes tells her that she’s not the only one in pain. They’re both avoiding the reality of the situation. He is taking care of her and she’s gladly letting him. There has been no one there to hold her hair back when she is sick, to rub her feet or massage her back. She’s been doing this alone and is ready for someone else to carry the load.

Her happiness is bittersweet because she knows it won’t last. Loving and holding onto Neal Caffrey are two different things. He’s like an exotic bird you only see in the wild. A flash and then he’s gone. Is he meant to stick around in one place? His ‘death’ just goes to show that he will always do his own thing.

And leave pain and heartbreak in his wake.

But she knows he tries—he wouldn’t be here otherwise. He could have let her go on believing he was dead. She’s the lucky one. Peter, Elizabeth, Mozzie… they’re still mourning, still suffering from the loss. He refuses to tell them, not until the threat of the Pink Panthers are gone. Even then, he’s hesitant, she can tell. It angers her, because if she weren’t pregnant, she wouldn’t know either.

Had it truly been worth it? That’s what upsets her more. She understands his desire for freedom, his doubt and uncertainty that the FBI would have let him go, but the price seems too high. Not when it’s mere months instead of years. Her child deserves a father, and not one who is hiding from the world.

And what about her? He’s here because of the baby. There’s something he’s not telling her, and given the way he glossed over their time apart, she knows there was someone else.

When she left New York, she told herself that she would move on from him, because it just wasn’t meant to be. Weeks later, as she stared at the pregnancy test, she wondered if she’d been fooling herself. She was drawn to Neal Caffrey like a moth to a flame. Fate had a way of turning her life upside down when she least expected it.

So she knows not to be shocked if he leaves again, if whatever they had before is not enough now. Sara is strong, and she’s picked herself up from heartache before. She’ll do it again. At least now she has someone to turn to, even if only for a little while.

*~*~*~*

The bed dips as he crawls in and slides in behind her. Sara tenses for a fraction of a second, but relaxes when his arms wrap around her. It feels like a lifetime ago that they last slept together. She can feel him hesitate, and takes his hand and rests it on her stomach. He lets out a slow, shuddering breath, and his hand moves gently, being rewarded a moment later with a soft kick. She smiles at the small gasp, and intertwines their fingers together, finally allowing herself to feel the joy in having him there.

“That day…” he starts, and his voice is soft, almost nervous. Her mind jumps to the day he ‘died’ and her heart beats faster. She’s not sure she wants to hear about it. “…standing on top of the Empire State Building…” he continues, and Sara closes her eyes, exhaling a sigh of relief. Another day that is nearly as painful, but now she can look back with a touch more fondness than heartbreak.

“For just a moment I thought it could be possible—to have it all.” His voice nearly cracks, and she remembers how emotional he’d been that day. Neither of them had expected it to feel so real, to realize that maybe there was more to their relationship than _amis amants_. At the time, it had been fun to daydream their possible future, but they’d both known it was only that—a daydream.

“Is it?” she asks before she can stop herself. Turning over, she faces him, and even in the dark of the night she can see the confusion in his eyes. “Is it possible?”

His face falls and her heart sinks. She nearly turns away, but the anger is back and Sara has never backed down from a challenge, and won’t now, _especially_ now. “Why not? You’re here now, aren’t you? And I’m fairly certain this,” she waves a hand over her belly, “won’t go away just because it’s not convenient for you. You’re her father, Neal, and that’s not going to change.”

“I _know_ that, but I want to keep you safe.” He rests his hand on her stomach again. “ _Both_ of you. If anything were to happen…”

Her eyes narrow and she pushes herself up on the bed. “You wouldn’t be here if you truly believed that.”

He sits up and looks away. “It’s not that—I just…” he trails off. Running a hand through this hair, he sighs. “Do you really think I wanted to do all of this? That I wanted to leave? I’d made a home. I _wanted_ to stay. To show Peter that he could trust me. To be there when Peter and Elizabeth’s baby arrived.”

His voice hardens and suddenly she sees the Neal that was capable of doing whatever was necessary, even hurting the very people he was protecting. “But I’ve lost enough people that I loved. I wasn’t going to lose any more. I’m sorry it had to happen this way, but better me gone than any of you actually dead.”

“But you’re here, now,” she points out stubbornly. “If you really felt I was in danger, then you wouldn’t be here.”

“I grew up without a father,” he replies sharply. “I’m not doing that to my own kid.”

His pain is obvious, especially with how things had turned out with James. Sara doesn’t have the whole story, but Neal had explained enough for her to know that he no longer considered James his father. It doesn’t make her any less angry though.

“You’re not staying, are you?”

She can see it in his eyes and it’s like a punch to her stomach. Sara’s lost people too, he’s not the only one, and right now he’s running away. Just like Emily. Again. She shouldn’t be surprised. Neal—no matter how good his intentions—always does what he wants. Maybe there’s some truth to his fears, but right now all she wants is _him_. Just because she’s strong enough to do it alone, doesn’t mean she wants to. He might not want to lose her, but she doesn’t want to lose him, either.

Shaking his head, he glances back at her, and there’s a haunted look in his eyes. “I can’t. Not yet. If there’s anyone who might believe I’m still alive, this will be the first place they look.”

She lets out a short, caustic laugh and wipes away the wetness from her eyes. “Well, they would have to be clairvoyant because I told no one about you.” As the words leave her mouth, she knows how cruel it sounds and sees him flinch. It’s not that she’s ashamed or embarrassed of him—she doesn’t care what people think—but she’s never been one to share. It’s none of their business, quite frankly.

“Not even Peter knows,” she adds, hoping to soften the blow, but really, all it does is show how selfish she’s been. The surprise is clear on his face, and she feels bad. However, if it helps convince him to stay, she won’t regret it. No matter the guilt she’s felt ever since she made the decision all those months ago.

Sara’s used to fending for herself, and not having to defend her choices to anyone. She can’t change the past any more than he can, and she’s not going to beat herself up over it anymore. Neal is alive. The past two weeks she’d wished she had told him, wondering if he would still be alive, but now she knows it would not have changed anything. If anything, he would have been more determined to be free.

Reaching over, she laces their fingers together.

“ _Stay_. Please. We’ll figure it out.”

*~*~*~*

__  
**Nine months later**  


She closes the door behind her softly, and smiles when she hears Neal’s voice carry over the apartment. He’s taken to singing their daughter to sleep, but now she can hear the melody of _Pirouette cacahuète_ and a familiar giggle from the kitchen.

_“Un avion à réaction,_  
_Pirouette cacahuète,_  
_Un avion à réaction,_  
_A rattrapé le bout du nez,  
_ _A rattrapé le bout du nez.”_

Walking into the kitchen, she finds Emma sitting in her high chair watching her father cook dinner with wide eyes. She is turning out to be a true Daddy’s girl, loving every minute she spends with her father and, likewise, has wrapped Neal around her little finger. The two of them are a matched pair, dark curly hair, those bright blue eyes, and a smile that lights up the room. Anyone that knew Neal would have no doubt of her paternity.

“Ah, Maman est rentrée!” He drops his knife, wipes his hands on a towel and walks the few steps to meet her. They lean in to each other and he kisses her softly, bringing a hand up, his fingers curling around the back of her neck. She stills, enjoying this moment that she once thought she’d lost forever.

A moment later, a giggle causes them to break apart and Neal walks over to pick Emma up. She goes to the cabinet where the wine glasses are kept and pours some wine from the bottle sitting out on the counter. “Do anything exciting today?” she asks after she takes a sip, and sets her glass down.

‘Exciting’ has taken on a new definition these days, but Neal, quite surprisingly, is very happy staying at home with Emma. It was hard the first few months, between the lack of sleep and Neal’s fear for their safety. More than once they fought over the littlest of things from the stress of it all, and there were days when she wondered if it would have been better to let him go. But they’d stuck it out and she’s happy they did. One look at how he lights up around Emma and she knows she did the right thing.

It’s easier now that they are in France. Giving up her job at Sterling Bosch had hurt, but not as much as losing Neal. No one knows her here—they don’t know her past, and can’t connect her charming husband to a presumed-dead con man.

She’d kept his secrets before, but now she is protecting her family.

“Oh, we had fun today, didn’t we, Emma?” he bounces her in his arms, and the little girl laughs, waving her chubby hands in the air. “Emma and I discovered that the Louvre has some very obvious holes in their security. She was very disappointed, I must say, but the new exhibit highlighting the Treasure of the Abbey of Saint Maurice d’Agaune exhibit made up for that.”

He glances back at Sara, his eyes shining brightly, and smiles widely.

She laughs and shakes her head. Sara knows that Neal has given up that life, and does not doubt his promise to stay with them. He is not his father, and never will be. There is such joy in him now, such devotion, that it is easy to forget the past. To forget all the pain that came before.

Sara watches them and muses to herself that maybe she had it right when she was young. There is a castle in the clouds. She just had to reach for it.

_~ Fin ~_  


[](https://www.dropbox.com/s/a4x7e1ewkzfg3n0/saracard-f.png?dl=0)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Kanarek13 for the beautiful art!


End file.
